


The Deal

by Holmes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Blood, Blowjobs, Dom/sub, Guns, Knives, Light BDSM, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, OCs galore, Porn With Plot, Power Play, Sex, Violence, all things mormor, dating Jim and Seb, in love Jim and Seb, mormor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 20:09:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2321762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holmes/pseuds/Holmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years ago, Sebastian makes a drunken deal with a notoriously dangerous criminal. So long as he doesn't enact this agreement, the sniper and Jim are safe. But things take a turn for the worse when his employer finds out about his suicidal arrangement. Soon enough the pair find themselves being tracked down at every turn by the infamous Bloodhound, and the only thing that will sate him is death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Deal

**Author's Note:**

> This story is loosely based off of an RP I have going on with the lovely folkinround.

Their one-year anniversary. That’s how it began.

The theme of the evening was secrets; surprises about one another that had not yet been discovered in the year that they had remained exclusive. Sebastian kicked things off by revealing to Jim that he was actually quite a very good cook.

“Sneaky little Tiger,” Jim scolded, his thin finger wagging in the air as his sniper unveiled before him a rather succulent-looking filet mignon. “Hiding it from me all along so you wouldn’t be stuck making dinner. Bastard.”

“Oi, don’t get tetchy, Jim,” Sebastian smirked. “Maybe I was saving it for our anniversary. Isn’t this a damn good surprise?”

“Bastard and a liar.”

Jim’s secret was that the night that they became ‘official,’ he splurged and spent twenty thousand pounds on a bottle of red wine. Tonight, he drew the precious bottle out from its wine cabinet (which Sebastian was not allowed to touch) and they uncorked it together, pouring out two plethoric glasses of the inky, rich-red liquid for each other.

Twenty-thousand pounds worth of wine later, they laid in bed together, kissing slow and lazily, giggling and breathing secrets in the space between them.

“Th’first time we had sex,” Sebastian said under his breath, plucking at the buttons of Jim’s shirt. “Back when your only name was _Boss_? You remember?”

“Of course I do, Tiger.”

“Haven’t fucked anyone else since.”

“No.”

“’Course! God dammit, d’you know how fuckin’ boring you make other shags seem?”

“You told me you’d gone on dates.”

Sebastian slid Jim’s shirt off his shoulders, running his hands tenaciously over the pale skin that greeted him. “The only dates I had were with a pint down at Flannigan’s.” He gave a toothy grin and pressed a wet kiss to Jim’s neck, the sound breaking the ensuing silence sinfully.

“Mmmh,” Jim hummed languidly, the sound slurring into his next sentence. “Seb, you’re a lying prick.” He rolled over on top of him, hips straddling his sniper’s stomach as he curled over and bit playfully at his lip. He carded his fingers through blond hair and gave a sharp tug. “I should fuck you dry for that,” he whispered.

"Oh, yeah?" Sebastian retorted, flexing his jaw as the hand knotted into a fist in his hair. He loved it, reciprocating with a bruising bite to Jim's lip as his hands undid his belt. The leather came out with a sharp snap as Sebastian wrenched it from it's loops, and he spared no time before moving onto the button and zip of his trousers, tugging the fabric down over his hipbones.

Jim gave Sebastian a fast slap across the face and pressed his wine-stained lips to Sebastian’s ear. “So _eager_ ,” he purred. He crushed his hips down with surprising strength, preventing the man from pulling his trousers down any further. “But patience is a virtue, Tiger.”

The sniper breathed in sharply through his nose, taking half a moment to recover and grin up at Jim. “I want _your_ virtue,” he quipped.

Jim laughed high and light. “Bit late for that, Sebby.”

The consulting criminal began to slide Sebastian’s shirt up over his abdomen, his fingertips brushing feather-light against his skin, tracing pale scars and making his muscle contract involuntarily under his curious touch.

Sebastian fought to keep his breath even, and it came out low and shaking from his flushed lips. He knew far better than to interrupt Jim when he looked so thoughtful and pensive—lest he disrupt his thoughts and incite his anger.

Jim’s lips were slightly parted as he observed the scars wrapping familiar and lovingly around Sebastian’s skin. Pretty little memories. This one was from the first time they fucked (accident). That one was from the first—and last—time that Sebastian laughed at Jim’s strip routine (very much on purpose).

Finally the sniper’s shirt came up and off, and Jim began to trace the distinct ‘ _JM_ ’ that had been carved into his chest long ago.

“I think this needs to be updated, Tiger,” Jim hummed thoughtfully.

Sebastian looked up at Jim with a puzzled expression on his face. Perhaps it was his wine-muddled mind, but he didn’t understand what the hell Jim was talking about.

“Updating?”

“Yes,” Jim said. He bent down and pressed a kiss to Sebastian’s lips, light and far too gentle, and Sebastian just laid there, inching into the brush of lips, but they were already gone, elusive as a bird. Jim’s eyes were now trained on the initials engraved into his skin, and just beneath, he dug his nail harshly into the sniper, leaving behind an angry, red line.

“Right there,” he breathed. “Every year I’ll make a tally. Little tick marks so we always know how many years together we’re celebrating.”

“Okay,” Sebastian assented breathlessly.

“ _Okay?_ ” Jim echoed with distaste. “Don’t be _boring_ , Bastian. It’s brilliant. You’re mine and I am going to _cover_ you in tallies to prove it.”

They both went silent for a minute as the full meaning of Jim’s words unveiled itself through the wine-coloured fog that surrounded them. They locked eyes, and for a moment Sebastian swore he saw a flicker of apprehension taint Jim’s features.

After an age of thick silence, Sebastian spoke up. “I’d like that,” he announced quietly.

Their lips crushed together almost violently.

Jim’s trousers came off first, Sebastian shoving the man roughly off of him in order to pull them down his thighs and cast them to the floor. The blond was now looming over him with a dangerous smile on his face. He bent down to bite and kiss the skin of Jim’s lower stomach, eliciting a response of an arching back and a faint gasp.

"Oh, Seb," Jim breathed. His hand flew to Sebastian’s hair, fingers knotting through his locks tightly as he pressed the sniper downwards towards his crotch.

“Christ,” Sebastian chuckled against Jim’s skin. “An’ you call me impatient. A bit too eager, aren’t you?”

“No such thing,” Jim smiled. He arched his hips up and, in a practiced movement, Sebastian quickly yanked his pants down and off to lay wet, hot kisses to Jim’s shaft. Jim's face was flushed down to his chest by now, and he was panting, eager for Sebastian.

“Sebby,” he groaned, throwing his legs around Sebastian’s neck. “Oh. Feels good. Hurry the hell up.”

“ _Patience is a virtue_.”

He gave his sniper a quick cuff on the ear. “You’re going to see how patient I am when I tie you to the bed for two days, Moran. Remember last time?”

“Sadistic bastard.”

“What was that, honey?”

“I said sure thing, Master,”

“Good boy,” Jim trilled, pulsing his hips, directing his full, throbbing cock upward towards Sebastian’s face.

Sebastian crushed the man’s hips down in a firm grip and, keeping his gaze fixed on Jim’s face, slid his swollen lips over the head of his member, enveloping him in hot, desperate heat.

Jim let out a shameless moan, forcing Sebastian’s head down, pressing his lips further and further over his erection until he was up to the hilt, where he stilled and allowed Sebastian to regain his composure.

“Suck, Moran.”

Sebastian’s cheeks hollowed in submission, the muscles of his jaw flexing as he began to create suction over Jim’s cock, bobbing over him with his tongue pressed flat against the underside of his shaft.

“Fucks sake, Moran, you’ve grown so predictable. You’re getting boooring.”

Sebastian moved quicker over Jim, pulling his wet lips up to Jim’s tip, where he caressed and circled his tongue over the head before diving down again, his moans vibrating through the consulting criminal’s erection as he scraped his teeth gently against his skin.

“Jesus, Seb,” Jim moaned. “Better.”

Better? Well that just wouldn’t do.

The thing that sent Jim squirming and writhing against the sheets was the hand on his arse, the finger playfully brushing at his entrance.

Without breaking the pattern of that beautiful, wonderful mouth, lube was acquired and distributed, and Sebastian pressed a slicked finger into Jim’s arse.

Jim threw his head back, biting down on his lip as he tightened his legs around Sebastian’s neck, pushing himself down further over Sebastian’s hand.

With a groan, Sebastian slid his lips up Jim’s cock, breaking the suction with a wet pop as he broke away from his skin. “Whore,” he grinned.

“Sebastian, suck me off now.”

The sniper responded by sliding another finger into Jim, pressing in up to the knuckle.

Jim cried out—a dirty, pained, and wonderful sound; Music to Sebastian’s ears.

The power play had begun.

Jim unlatched his legs from Sebastian’s neck and jerked his head up via the fist in his hair.

“Jim,” he growled. “The fuck’re you doing?”

“I’m teaching you a lesson, Bastian,” Jim said sweetly, though his voice was tight. “We’re doing what I want tonight, and I can rip all the hair off your pretty little head if you don’t want to cooperate. Now get out of my arse and onto my cock.”

Swiftly, Sebastian slid his fingers out of Jim and snatched up at the hands in his hair. After a short struggle, he was straddling the smaller man’s hips with his hand pinning Jim’s above his head.

“M’doing what I want tonight, Jimmy,” Sebastian protested, to which Jim gave a disconcerting smile.

“Oh, Colonel,” he tutted, twisting his hands uselessly in Sebastian’s grip. “You’re making a big mistake. Don’t do anything you’re going to regret.”

Sebastian’s lips curled into a smirk. “I won’t,” he promised. And suddenly he was grinding his hips up against the man, biting his neck and groaning at the sensation. "Oh, fuck, you feel so good, love."

Jim let out a couple moans, the feel of Sebastian’s erection through his trousers making him incredibly hungry. He feigned surrender, laying cooperatively in an effort to lull Sebastian into complacency. He had to take those trousers off some time.

Finally he did, tucking his forehead into the crook of Jim’s neck as he released his hands to reach down and work off his trousers and underwear. When he had kicked the blasted things to the floor, Jim made his move.

“Fuck! Jim! What th’hell?”

Sebastian was naked beneath him, his cock red and twitching painfully against his stomach, but he was otherwise stricken motionless with his hands lying palm-out at his sides, a cool knife pressing threateningly against the skin of his throat.

“I told you you’d regret it,” Jim sang.

“Fuck you,” Sebastian spat. “You’re drunk, y’shouldn’t be—ah, dammit!”

With little more than a flash of reflected moonlight, the knife was dragging against Sebastian’s skin, digging a crimson line underneath the healed JM on his chest.

“Hold still, Sebby,” Jim commanded. “I don’t want to make it crooked. That’s sure to be bad luck.”

“Warn a guy,” Sebastian growled, balling his fists in the sheets beneath him. Blood began to spill from his pectoral over to the center of his chest, pooling in his solar plexus and running down the center of his abdomen; a thin line of sumptuous black in the darkness.

Well Jim certainly couldn’t resist this.

He began at Sebastian’s navel, stopping the trail in its tracks with his tongue and tracing it back up to the source, his body pressing along Sebastian’s as he went, his own slender stomach dragging against Sebastian’s dripping cock.

Sebastian was stricken—watching Jim’s impossibly dark eyes with a look of wonder, groaning and whimpering under the pain of the slice and the pleasure of the friction.

Jim licked the cut itself, his tongue pressing flat against him, sucking and prompting the slice to sting and prickle.

“What a good Tiger,” he cooed. He began to press bloody kisses to his sniper’s clavicle and neck, his body dragging up, up, up, until it completely passed Sebastian’s erection, leaving the sniper shuddering and moaning longingly as his cock met the empty air.

Jim smiled and bit at Sebastian’s neck, and then slid backwards, legs spread, until Sebastian’s cock rested snugly between his cheeks. He warned his Tiger to stay still and behave while he prepared himself and, after some fresh lube had been doled out, Jim lined Sebastian up to his entrance and sat back.

He flushed and moaned lightly as he slid past the groove of the sniper’s tip, pressing him further and further inside of him until he was completely full, sitting over Sebastian’s prick.

“Jim,” Sebastian gasped. “Oh, Jim. _Jesus_. Yer so fucking tight.”

Jim didn’t say a word, smiling faintly as he concentrated on riding his sniper. He braced his hands over Sebastian’s chest and began to move, thoroughly enjoying the sound and feel of the dick slicking in and out of his entrance, along with the owner’s desperate moans and—perhaps something was missing?—ah, yes; Jim dug his nail into Sebastian’s fresh cut, prompting a strangled, gasping groan, thick with pain and pleasure and feeling. He was controlling Sebastian. And though the sniper’s hands groped at Jim’s thighs and arse and his hips were beginning to thrust up into him, he was a puppet; every move dictated by a slight nod or an approving moan from Jim.

They rocked together, gaining speed until Sebastian was thrusting roughly into Jim, the pair of them gasping and clawing at each other until they were both shining with sweat and smeared with blood, coming and crying out, grunting and spilling over one another.

At last Jim lifted himself off of Sebastian and fell at his side, purring and idly smearing at the blood over Sebastian’s chest, admiring the way his sniper relaxed and fell limp, the way he had submitted and truly enjoyed himself in the end.

After a few moments to recover, Sebastian brushed a sweat-soaked lock out of Jim’s face, smiling devilishly.

“I like you like this,” Jim giggled, curling his slender arms around Sebastian’s neck as he kissed him. “Relaxed and happy. You’ve been _broody,_ lately.”

“I have not,” Sebastian replied, affronted.

“Have _so_.”

“Shut th’fuck up. We’ve been together a year, yeah? Makes you think.”

“’Bout what?”

“How long it’ll last.”

There was silence.

“Well, we’ve got one tally down, don’t we?” Jim leaned down and pressed a wet kiss to the bloody line on Sebastian’s chest. “I’m not going anywhere, Seb.”

“Good,” Sebastian nodded, chuckling under Jim’s tongue. “Because when you leave me, I have to..." He trailed off here, struck with an odd feeling of warning. Like perhaps, deep down, Sober Sebastian was telling him to shut the fuck up. "Oh. Nevermind."

Jim blinked and readjusted on top of Sebastian, pressing their foreheads together. “No,” he said eagerly, his eyes hungry for information from such a tantalizing cliffhanger of a sentence. “Go on, tell me.”

He sighed again and nuzzled up against Jim, holding him tighter. "M'not supposed to say," he said. "He told me not to tell you. And it doesn't matter anyways, cause you're not going anywhere, yeah?"

“ _He?_ Who’s _he?_ Don’t make me force you, Tiger. You know I’m capable.”

“Are you jealous?” Sebastian asked dubiously. “No, don’t worry; he’s no competition, love. Just a friend.”

“Sebastian Moran. Tell me.”

"Fuck," Sebastian muttered. "I can't, Jim. I shouldn't've said a word. It's not important, it's not relevant, and m'gonna have to drink two more fucking bottles of wine 'fore I'm drunk enough to tell you."

“You are _so_ bloody difficult, you know,” Jim hissed. “You promised me your loyalty, your unquestioning trust. And yet there are still things you keep from me like this."

Sebastian rolled away from Jim, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. "No, no, no, I didn't mean f'this to happen," he groaned. "I wasn't disloyal, I thought I was doing good. S'just a plan, yeah? Was just a plan, and it wasn't even really _planned_ , if you know what I mean." He sat up and began to fidget. "It was an accident. Sort of. I was drunk when I made the deal." He made a weary groan. "Alcohol, yeah? Fixer and creator of problems."

“Deal?”

Sebastian hung his head, muffled the Sober Sebastian inside his head barking at him to shut his fucking mouth, and began to confess.

“He's one of the best snipers I know. Just a notch under me, really. We used to work together—our employer always paired us up because we were fucking unstoppable." He threaded his hands through his hair. "But he's still a hard sonofabitch. He makes deals with people, and he doesn't take any shit. One time we were down at the pub together, and by now I was working for you. And he was just kinda working on his own, staying out of everyone's way and doing one-man jobs that he carried out. Made a good living. But he was looking to do more, yeah? Always planning. You an' I weren't dating, but I told the fucker how much you meant to me, an' how devastated I'd be if you ever cut me loose. I was being a right emotional bitch. I said to the bastard, I said, ‘even if Moriarty were to have me killed, I still worry about 'im. I don't trust anyone to watch over him like me’... Well, he perked right th'hell up when I said that."

Jim remained silent, eyes scrutinizing Sebastian’s face thoroughly, as though he couldn’t convey the information fast enough. Each word sobered him a bit more.

"I said that I wouldn't even know what to do with m'self without you. I told 'im life wouldn't be worth living."

Sebastian shook his head ruefully, as though he had pinpointed the exact moment he had fucked up. "It's all dramatic shit, I know. But it was true enough. He told me he has a couple of jobs no one wants. That they're suicide jobs and he needs a good man for it. He told me...said, that if you ever cut me loose, he'd watch after you. He'd protect you and fill my shoes, yeah? And I knew he would, cause he's a man of his word, and a tough one at that, though he is a cunning little bastard. He said his jobs are always waiting for me. And if he heard that you let me go, he'd come find me and set up one last hit for me to go out on...and then he'd look after you. He'd know you were looking for a right-hand man. And he was perfect, Jim—real professional bastard who took care of his employers. I knew it'd be right. And so I said yeah, sure, sounds like a hell of a deal. It'd be my one last way of protecting you."

Sebastian twisted the sheets in his hands, feeling woozy and nervous. "So now you know," he sighed soberly, shaking his head. "You were never s'posed to know. He told me you’re not supposed to know."

Jim could’ve slapped him. “Oh. And you thought you were doing me good, then, did you?” he seethed.

"Don't you fucking see why I couldn't tell you?" Sebastian said bitterly. "Because now you feel obliged to keep me around forever. As long as I have this suicide pact over my head, you're never going to leave me. How the hell am I supposed to know if you love me, now? It wasn't dishonest, keeping it a secret—it was fucking _mercy_. So you didn't have to live with it looming over you like I did. An' now you do."

Jim seized Sebastian by the hair, lifting him slightly before slamming him backwards. The effect was somewhat lost on the pillow beneath him, but the message was clear. “Don’t you think that, if I truly didn’t give a shit about you and was letting you go, I wouldn’t give a damn whether you lived or died?” he growled. “Oh, come _on_ , Sebastian. You’re smart.”

“Shut the hell up!”

“ _No,_ Moran. You don’t understand why this is very _very_ wrong. You are _mine_. You will _always_ be mine. And this bloody deal is a _claim_ on you. It is a piece of you that I can never have.”

“Jim! Jesus Christ, you’re ripping my hair out!”

“You. Are. _Mine._ ”

“Fuck, Jim! Fine! M’yours! And I always will be—it only counts if you don’t want me anymore…now lemme go!”

Jim’s fist connected with Sebastian’s face with surprising force. A sickening crack echoed throughout the room.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Sebastian cried, gasping and sputtering as he heaved himself to his feet. “You broke my nose, you goddamn dick!” He swayed uncertainly where he stood and then stormed off to the bathroom.


End file.
